


Aomine and Kuroko Drabbles

by Lys ap Adin (lysapadin)



Series: Drabble Posts [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drabble Collection, Ficlet Collection, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-05
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-18 00:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lysapadin/pseuds/Lys%20ap%20Adin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Aomine/Kuroko drabbles and ficlets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly things from Tumblr memes and prompts; new "chapters" will be added to periodically as the AoKuro fills accumulate.

**No prompt, just because  
#Aomine has more issues than the Library of Congress**

Sometimes Daiki gets nervy. Not as often as he did at first, when he didn't quite believe the evidence of his senses, didn't believe that Tetsuya meant the things he said and did. Back then, when this was still new, Daiki watched him constantly, warily, like he was waiting for Tetsuya to change his mind and leave again. It took time, even more time than Tetsuya had initially anticipated, for Daiki to relax and begin to believe in him, in them, again.

Tetsuya still regrets that. Not that he did it so much, because it was necessary for him, for Daiki, for their game and their teammates' games, but that the doing of it hurt Daiki so badly. At this remove, years out, he can't say whether the route he chose for them was the best or even the only way to fix all the things that were broken between them. He chose it and it worked, changed them all for the better (eventually), and he shoulders the consequences of his choice willingly.

This is one of those consequences: Daiki skittish, unsure of himself or, more precisely, of Tetsuya. Because it is Daiki, this does not manifest in any way that might be called typical. When Daiki is uncertain, he reacts by holding on more tightly to what he has, as though convinced in his soul that if he loosens his grip even a little bit, he will lose everything.

Tetsuya doesn't mind this. He's had years to hone his talent for working with and around what he's been handed, and he's all but specialized in working with Daiki in particular.

It's not a hardship. Rather the opposite, really.

Tetsuya has resigned himself to the fact that Daiki is always going to be that much taller and broader than he is, that Daiki will always be able to sling an arm around his shoulders and lean over him, that Daiki can make good on the concept of manhandling him if he happens to be in the mood for it. It's not so bad a thing, really. Sometimes, like now, it's even good.

Daiki is a warm, solid weight draped against Tetsuya's back. He has his mouth pressed against the side of Tetsuya's throat, warm and wet and gentler than anyone who isn't Tetsuya might believe Daiki can be. Even so, Tetsuya is fairly sure that he's going to find a mark there later.

He doesn't ask Daiki to stop, even though Daiki would if he did.

Instead he rolls his head to the side a little further, rests his cheek against his wrist, and sighs at the brush of Daiki's lips against his skin, whispering the syllables of his name like a secret. There are pillows beneath Tetsuya's hips, canting them up for the way Daiki is moving against him, _inside_ him, but most of his weight is actually resting against Daiki's hand, splayed against his stomach. Daiki holds him easily, steadying him against the slow back-and-forth rocking of his hips and the leisurely build of pleasure that each thrust sends rippling up Tetsuya's spine.

Tetsuya rather likes how simple it is for Daiki to hold him this way, and he relaxes into it, trusting Daiki to see them through and letting Daiki hear the sounds he makes, soft gasps and murmurs of satisfaction as sensation twines through him, warm as sunlight. Daiki does not let him down (Daiki will never let him down; Tetsuya knows this even if Daiki himself is not convinced). When Tetsuya's breath is moving fast and he is hovering on the edge, ready to tip over it, Daiki shifts his hand lower and closes it on him, his grip perfect. Tetsuya closes his eyes and moans outright as satisfaction rolls through him, long lazy shudders working him from head to toe, lingering even after the first sweet flash of pleasure subsides.

Daiki groans against his nape, open and breathless, something without words in it as he moves faster, driving himself against Tetsuya deeper and harder. Tetsuya reaches back to him and slides his fingers into Daiki's hair, stroking it as aftershocks of heat dance along his nerves, until Daiki goes taut against him, shaking as he comes.

He sprawls against Tetsuya when that tension finally leaves him, breathing hard and pressing Tetsuya against the sheets. He's heavy enough that it isn't strictly comfortable, even factoring in the lassitude of the afterglow, but Tetsuya doesn't mind. Daiki is warm and close, the indefinable edge of tension that he'd had before they'd tumbled into bed together soothed away. That alone would make Tetsuya willing to put up with a great deal more discomfort than this.

He reaches for Daiki's hand, still loosely fisted in the blanket. When he brings it to his mouth and kisses the palm, Daiki sighs against his nape, shaping the syllables of Tetsuya's name again.

"Yes," Tetsuya says, one more promise that he is here and not going anywhere at all, not without Daiki, and smiles when Daiki's grip on him finally begins to relax.

 

**Domesticity meme  
#Aomine is pretty adorable sometimes**

This is probably the best part of living with Tetsu, not that the rest isn't great—Daiki never stops being entertained by Tetsu's understated, biting snark and he loves being able to press Tetsu down against the futon and cover every centimeter of Tetsu's skin with his kisses and he is never _ever_ going to get tired of rolling over in the morning to find Tetsu watching him and smiling beneath that crazy bedhair of his, but this—this is the best of all, when he can stretch out and rest his head in Tetsu's lap while Tetsu reads and go to sleep to the feeling of Tetsu's hand curled around his nape, holding him close and safe.

 

**AU meme  
#I don't even know y'all #I really don't**

The thing Daiki can't understand is what on earth a guy like Tetsu is doing working the street in the first place. It's no kind of life for a guy as quiet and polite as Tetsu is, a guy who sometimes gives away little snatches of himself like pieces of a puzzle. Daiki collects each one that Tetsu lets slip, hoping that if he can just fit them together, he'll be able to figure Tetsu out.

In the meantime they share an apartment so small Daiki can hold his arms out and touch the walls at once and he does his best to look out for Tetsu, who has no apparent sense of self-preservation when it comes to dealing with the assholes who think a fistful of bills earns them the right to do whatever they want to you (Daiki has seen him throw punches at guys twice his size; yeah, that wouldn't have ended well, but Tetsu didn't seem to be fazed by that later when Daiki was yelling at him). And sometimes they wake up in the afternoon and lie together on the futon that they share, and when they reach for each other it doesn't have anything to do with money at all.

#and then Kagami shows up a la Pretty Woman or something and sweeps the two of them off to live a life of luxury with him or something, I dunno

 

**"a Sunday afternoon with nothing to do"**  
#Kuroko is kind of evil  
#but Aomine likes him that way 

It's Sunday afternoon, and there's nothing to do.

"You could do your homework," Tetsu says, which is what he's doing, sitting prim and proper at Daiki's table, his books and notebooks spread out around him.

It's like Tetsu doesn't even know him or something. "I'll get the answers from Sakurai in the morning," Daiki says, because Sakurai is dependable about doing all the bullshit assignments their teachers hand out and is, more importantly, easily cowed. 

Tetsu actually looks up from his work and gives Daiki a look full of disapproval. "I don't see how you expect to learn anything that way."

"That would be because I don't," Daiki tells him, flopping onto his back so he can avoid Tetsu's gaze. That gives him the right angle to see the rain still falling outside the window, a steady grey curtain that has foreclosed any possibility of going out with Tetsu and hustling a game on the street. Damn rain.

Tetsu is not Satsuki, for which Daiki is grateful for all kinds of reasons. Instead of trying to scold or cajole him into doing his work, Tetsu turns the page and says, "I see." For a moment, there's no sound but the rain drumming on the roof above them and the quiet scratch of Tetsu's pen. Daiki is just beginning to think about taking a nap when Tetsu adds, "I'm sure Kagami-kun will enjoy having better test scores than you."

"Oh, hell no." Daiki lifts his head and makes a face at Tetsu. "That trick isn't going to work on me again."

"I'm not sure what trick you're referring to." Tetsu slides his finger down the page of his textbook, searching for something; when he finds it, he begins copying it down, face a mask of concentration. He's got his lip caught between his teeth and his eyebrows drawn together, and anyone who didn't know better would assume he's completely focused on the task at hand.

"Sure you don't." Keeping his head up is too much work; Daiki braces himself on his elbows instead. "I'm on to you, Tetsu. You're not gonna fool me that way again." No way is he going to be manipulated into trying to one-up that idiot Kagami, not this time.

"I still don't know what you mean," Tetsu says, completely bland. "I was just making an observation."

"I'm on to you and your tricks," Daiki tells him. "I'm not falling for it."

Tetsu glances up again, mostly straight-faced except for the glimmer of laughter in his eyes. "If you say so." He taps his pen against his chin. "I suppose a year and half is a good run."

The worst part is that he's not exaggerating that timeline. "I hate you so much," Daiki says, flopping back down again.

"Mm." Tetsu turns another page and writes something else down and doesn't touch that one. "I suppose it's up to you if you want to be the least educated player in the BJ League."

"That's not going to work either." No one is going to give a shit what kind of grades he pulls down after he signs. Until then, all he has to do is make sure he doesn't flunk any major tests that will keep him from playing, and he's got that much covered.

Tetsu sighs. "I suppose it'll have to be bribery, then." He sounds resigned, but Daiki's pretty sure he's amused, too, underneath that. 

Daiki doesn't stir, not willing to let Tetsu know how that's piqued his interest. "Not a big enough bribe in the world," he tells the ceiling. 

"Do you think so?" Tetsu asks. Daiki hears the quiet click of him putting his pen down. Daiki _knows_ that tone—it only ever means that Tetsu is about to do something drastic—and raises his head just in time to get hit square in the face with—what the fuck? Something warm and soft that, when he finally claws it off his face, turns out to be the button-down that Tetsu was wearing over his t-shirt. 

Daiki looks at his fistful of Tetsu's shirt and then at Tetsu, whose bare arms gleam pale in the grey light from the window and whose expression is so carefully blank that Daiki immediately braces himself for something really evil. "What the hell?"

"A gesture of good faith," Tetsu says calmly. "For every piece of homework you finish, I'll take off something else." He picks up his phone. "Momoi-san already sent me the list of your assignments."

For a moment, Daiki is speechless with the sheer scope of Tetsu's evil genius. "You _bastard_ ," he says, full of admiration. "What happens if I finish all my homework?"

Tetsu's smile is small. "I suppose that depends on how long it takes you, doesn't it?"

"Fine." Daiki sits up and reaches for his school bag. He'll start with his literature homework, which should go pretty fast.

After all, Tetsu didn't stipulate that the assignments had to be done _correctly_.

 

**"what they really do with all that ice cream"**  
#the ice cream is a metaphor  
#a metaphor for how badly they want to screw 

Tetsu is as fastidious with his ice cream as he is everything else. He unwraps ice cream bars with meticulous care and never, ever forgets to dispose of the wrapper in the appropriate trash receptacle. He always manages to eat his ice cream without _ever_ dripping it on his fingers or his clothes, even on the hottest days of summer when it's a matter of eating fast or seeing one's ice cream splattered across the sidewalk.

Daiki doesn't know how he does it and chalks it up as another of Tetsu's mysterious ways. Tetsu has a lot of those, more than Daiki expects he'll ever understand.

Like right now. Objectively speaking, all Tetsu is doing is eating his ice cream, one careful lick at a time. Nothing weird about that, aside from the fact that clearly the proper way to eat an ice cream bar is by biting off mouthfuls and letting them melt on the tongue while complaining about the brainfreeze. Tetsu eats slowly, methodically, tongue pink and lips red against the vanilla white of the ice cream bar, occasionally lifting the bar and rotating it to catch stray runnels of melting ice cream with the tip of his tongue. 

For the life of him, Daiki cannot look away, not even when his own ice cream starts melting across his fingers, chilly-sticky-messy. There's something about the way Tetsu's eating his ice cream that has him transfixed. It shouldn't, right? He has a dim inkling that there shouldn't be anything special about watching Tetsu slide the last of the bar into his mouth and pull it back out again, slow, so very _slow_ , and for some reason the word _obscene_ springs to Daiki's mind.

Tetsu looks over at him; there's just a trace of ice cream at the corner of his mouth. Daiki doesn't even know why, but there's a part of him that suddenly aches with the urge to find out how it tastes. Before he can even react to having that thought (what the hell, seriously, that's not—that's not _normal_ , is it?), Tetsu raises his eyebrows. "Your ice cream is melting."

Which it is, the half-eaten bar now mostly just a mess across his fingers and knuckles and, shit, his uniform slacks, too. Daiki curses and drops the remains of his ice cream; it splats against the ground while he tries to shake the worst of the mess off his fingers. He curses his failure to ever carry tissues or a handkerchief or anything useful (though that's what Satsuki's for, isn't it?) and, for lack of a better solution, sticks his fingers in his mouth to lick them clean. 

It's not until he's swiping his tongue across his knuckles that he realizes that Tetsu is watching him, a strange, distracted look on his face. "What?" he demands, wary of that expression (Tetsu has a wicked sense of humor for such a quiet little guy).

"You need help." It comes out more a statement of fact than a question, really.

Daiki debates taking offense and decides not to, not if Tetsu is willing to loan out some tissues or something. "Yeah, well—"

That's when Tetsu takes Daiki's hand in his, which, weird, very weird, and lifts it, and then Daiki's brain shorts out completely as Tetsu applies his mouth to the remains of the mess on his fingers. His lips and tongue are cool against Daiki's skin, soft and wet, and very thorough as he scours the ice cream off Daiki's fingers and palm... and keeps going even after Daiki is sure that there can't possibly be anything left on his fingers. 

This definitely isn't normal, Daiki thinks as Tetsu slides his mouth down over his thumb and flirts the tip of his tongue against the ball of it. This definitely isn't normal, and he's definitely not gonna be the one to stop it, either.

Tetsu drags his mouth off Daiki's thumb, slow like his mouth on the ice cream, and Daiki can hear his own breathing loud and fast in his ears. Tetsu looks at him, lips shining and wet, and there's still a little dab of ice cream at the corner of his mouth. 

"You have—" Daiki says, hoarse, gesturing at it. Tetsu looks at him, lifting his eyebrows the tiniest bit, until Daiki swallows hard and stoops to dart his tongue out, quick, and stroke it against the corner of Tetsu's mouth, sweet vanilla and the salt of skin beneath that. 

Tetsu turns his face before Daiki can begin to think of pulling back, bringing their mouths together, awkward with the bump of noses and teeth until Daiki tips his head just _so_ and Tetsu leans like _that_ , and they're kissing, hot-wet-slick.

Oh, some distant part of Daiki thinks, oh, I get it now. And with that, the only sensible thing to do is pull Tetsu closer and concentrate on chasing the last taste of the ice cream out of his mouth.

 

**Microfic Meme  
#Aomine and Kuroko are complicated**

**1\. Angst**

"I'm sorry," Tetsu said and maybe even meant it. "Maybe if you'd said something sooner..." His voice trailed off into uncertainty and he looked aside. Daiki knew what was coming before he even opened his mouth again. "The truth is, there's already someone else."

 

**2\. AU [ordinary people]**

They have a class together, history, that's how the group of them initially collide with one another. Goodness knows they're just disparate enough that probably nothing would have brought them together in the ordinary course of things—Kise can't think of anything but the sky and Midorima studies obsessively; Murasakibara is more interested in food than anything else and Akashi is just weird, juggling school and a budding career in shougi as if it wasn't anything at all. Daiki hardly knows what he thinks of these people, so very different from himself, but Satsuki likes them pretty well, which is enough to be going on.

And there's Kuroko, quiet and deceptively earnest, Tetsu who cares more than anyone Daiki has ever met, who has a quiet smile and a profoundly evil sense of humor, and Daiki is in over his head before he even knows how deep those waters run.

 

**3\. Crack**

"Daiki," Tetsu says, a very solemn look on his face. "This is very important. How do you feel about becoming a father?"

Daiki manages to snort beer a clear four meters across the room, through his nose. "Say _what_?" he demands, after the burning and the hurting have subsided a little bit. 

"I need to know," Tetsu says patiently. "How do you feel about becoming a father?"

"Oh my god," Daiki says, "I changed my mind, you can be on top, I don't care."

Tetsu's expression doesn't really change, but Daiki gets the sense that he's somehow satisfied. "Well," he says. "If you're sure."

"I'm very sure," Daiki says fervently.

(Later, much later, Satsuki eventually stops laughing long enough to explain why skipping out on so many biology classes was not the smartest decision Daiki has ever made.)

 

**4\. Crossover [tenipuri]**

"But Tetsu, this guy is a _jackass_ ," Aomine protests.

"I have better things to do with my time than to make conversation with peasants," Atobe sniffs.

Tetsuya ignores them both. "Just keep talking," he says, resting his chin in his hands. "Read the phone book to one another, if you like."

Atobe eyes him, then glances at Aomine. "Is he... not quite right?" he asks, apparently under the impression that he's being delicate about it.

Aomine just sighs. "Better to do what he says." He gives Atobe a long look. "So, tennis, huh? Kind of a wussy sport, if you ask me."

Tetsuya enjoys listening to the ensuing argument very much indeed.

 

**5\. First time**

Eventually Tetsuya puts his hands over Daiki's and grips them firmly enough that they stop shaking. Daiki looks at him with eyes gone wide and unsure, at least until Tetsuya says, "It's all right," and "Let me."

And Daiki does.

 

**6\. Fluff**

Daiki not a morning person. He's more of a mid-morning person at best, a late-morning or early-afternoon person by preference. Getting him out of bed to attend to little things like practice and school is a constant exercise in exasperation on Tetsuya's part, not least because Daiki is grabby even when he's asleep. 

Fortunately, Tetsuya has no compunctions about playing dirty and has acquired a whole host of tricks for getting Daiki up in something resembling a timely fashion. The list starts with relatively innocuous things like ripping the blankets off the bed, progresses to more complicated methods involving cold water and ice cubes, and culminates with a fairly elaborate arrangement of recorded threats delivered by Akashi-kun that Tetsuya plays right against Daiki's ear. (Fortunately for all concerned, Tetsuya has only had to rely on that measure a couple of times, because there's something about hearing Akashi-kun murmuring dire things in his ear that makes Daiki levitate out of bed.)

And some mornings, Tetsuya doesn't bother. He switches off the alarm and lets Daiki wind him up in his arms and the blankets, and smiles softly at the sleepy, contented sounds Daiki makes as he nuzzles against Tetsuya's shoulder. 

 

**7\. Humor**

"Oh my god," Kagami moans, covering his eyes. What he can't see can't traumatize him forever. "What do you think you're going to tell Kuroko later?"

Aomine's reply is muffled, presumably by the show girls' breasts. "Don't be stupid. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?"

"You've known Kuroko longer than I have," Kagami points out. "Do you really believe that? _Do you_?"

"You never let me have any fun," Aomine grumbles, but the next time Kagami peeks through his fingers, he is shaking off the show girls, so maybe he's got some sense of self-preservation rattling around inside that skull of his after all.

If so, it's the first sign of it that Kagami has seen yet on this road trip from hell. 

 

**8\. Hurt/Comfort**

They've left their marks on each other, for good and for ill. Sometimes Daiki can't help reaching for Tetsu, can't help holding onto him, desperately afraid that if he lets go (again), Tetsu will vanish like the mist does in sunlight.

When he does this, Tetsu doesn't say anything about it at all. Instead he lets Daiki hold him for as long as he likes, until Daiki can convince himself that Tetsu isn't going anywhere (never again).

 

**9\. Smut**

There are some benefits to being so much smaller than Daiki, and this is one of them—Daiki's weight against his back, solid and broad, while Daiki pushes into him. The stretch of it is hard and slow, relentless enough that Tetsuya can only breathe in small, panting gasps as he curls his fingers against the sheets and closes his eyes against the aching fullness of it. Daiki groans against his shoulder, a low wordless sound, and flexes his fingers against Tetsuya's hips, holding him steady as he begins to move. 

 

**10\. UST**

"You know," Taiga said, the day he finally got tired of watching Aomine make eyes at Kuroko whenever Kuroko had his back turned, and tired of looking at the way Kuroko's wistful gaze followed Aomine all around the court. "You two should kiss each other already and get it over with. I'm just saying."

Aomine yelled and sputtered a lot, because he was an idiot, but Kuroko blinked at Taiga and said, "I suppose you're right." Then he hooked a hand in Aomine's shirt to drag him close enough to get down to business. 

"It's about damn time," Taiga said, ignoring it when Aomine flipped him the bird. "Now can we please play some basketball without getting angst all over the court?"

 

**Aomine, vampire hunter, and his friend the vampire**  
#I am not writing this  
#Je refuse  
#Je refuse absolument 

The problem with Aomine is not that he isn't good at what he does. He's quite good in fact, possibly the best. He's still breathing, after all, even though he's been hunting vampires since he was big enough to wrap his fist around a stake and drive it through muscle and bone. Hunting vampires is not a profession for those with plans for growing old or even for those who plan on seeing their thirties, but Aomine Daiki just turned thirty-one and is still going strong. There are plenty of bloodsuckers who hear his name—hear whispers that he's on his way into town—and promptly decide that they have business on the other side of the globe.

Not that it does 'em much good to up stakes—hah, up _stakes_ —in the long run. Once Aomine takes a job, he finishes it.

Therein lies the problem. Getting him to take a job is a job in itself, because Aomine is so good at killing vampires that it honestly bores him. Left to his own devices, he'd probably ignore the fangy bastards altogether and get on with his life. (Killing vampires is not itself a particularly lucrative business, but there are fees to be had, and what's more, hunters traditionally get the first crack at the earthly goods of the ex-bloodsuckers. Most hunters blow through their loot in short order, but most hunters don't have Momoi Satsuki handling their investments for them. Aomine could conceivably never lift his finger in an honest day's—or night's—work ever again and live to a comfortable old age anyway.)

Fortunately for those who would like their nights to be relatively free of fangèd menace, Aomine Daiki doesn't work alone.

It's not common knowledge; Aomine's partner is the retiring sort. Reclusive, after a fashion, not prone to mingling. Certainly most of the folks who track Aomine down and apply to him for aid never even know that when they're asking, or begging, or demanding that Aomine come and rid them of some vampiric infestation or another, the lanky figure slouched at his desk is not their only audience. They cajole or plead or negotiate with Aomine, much good that it will do them—Aomine usually ignores them and surfs the internet for porn until he gets bored and tells them to go away, he'll think about it—and they leave again, wondering why a bum like that has such an outstanding reputation for getting things done.

And after they leave, that's when Kuroko steps out of the shadows. He's not much to look at on first glance—slightly built and pale, with so little presence that he can go unnoticed by all but the most acute observers—but that's the way he prefers it. He doesn't say anything, usually. At most he might come to stand near Aomine's desk and look at him, silent and waiting, until Aomine breaks. "Aw, come on," he protests—it's a sad thing to say of a man his age, but sometimes he whines—"Come _on_ , Tetsu, do we have to, really?"

Kuroko rarely does anything so unsubtle as frowning, but his disapproval is palpable nonetheless. "Don't you think we should?"

"They should be able to handle it themselves," Aomine generally tries to argue, despite the fact that vampires are stronger than most humans, certainly faster, with keener senses and a certain aura that turns all but the most strong-minded of humans into pudding before them. (Aomine is nothing if not strong-minded; most assholes are, to an extent.) "Aw, c'mon, someone else can do it, can't they?"

But, as Kuroko points out, that hypothetical someone else rarely seems to show up. "They didn't ask someone else," he adds, sometimes. "They asked _you_."

Aomine never has pretended to be modest, after all.

He gives in eventually, because Kuroko is stubborn and because vampires are boring, but not killing vampires is even more boring. "Fine, fine," he says when he gives in to the inevitable. "I'll do it, fine, stop nagging me already."

"I think you must have me confused with someone else," Kuroko tells him, severe even when he's pleased, and begins to melt away into the shadows to go begin their preparations.

Sometimes Aomine stops him before he goes. "Hey, Tetsu," he says to Kuroko's retreating back. "How come you hate them so much?"

Kuroko never answers, not properly. "Because," he tells Aomine.

"Because _what_?" Aomine presses, though that only earns him the quick subtle show of a slip of fang (Aomine stopped being impressed by that years ago).

"Because," Kuroko says and goes, and Aomine has to be content with that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trapped by a Storm

**#skyfireflies**  
#Aomine and Kuroko, trapped by a storm  
#I have a low sense of humor

"Don't be stupid," Tetsu said when it got late and Daiki began to make motions in the direction of needing to head home. "You'll freeze to death in a snowbank."

"I would not," Daiki protested.

Tetsu looked at him and slowly lifted his eyebrows. "Yes, you would." Clearly he was not convinced.

Daiki started to say that he could make his way home just fine, snow storm or no snow storm, but Tetsu forestalled him by unfolding himself from his seat and announcing, "You'll have to stay here until it blows over."

"...okay." If Tetsu was going to offer, he wasn't going to say no. He could be a glutton for punishment, sure, but no one wanted to walk half an hour in a raging snow storm. "Thanks, Tetsu."

"Mm." Tetsu looked down at him, inscrutable, then gestured. "If you'd like the first bath, I can make up a bed for you."

"You don't have to do that," Daiki said. "Go ahead, I'll... just... yeah. Go ahead, it's fine."

Tetsu looked at him for a moment longer, but nodded and went. It was just as well; that gave Daiki the few minutes he needed to shake the stupid, crazy ideas out of his head and at least pick up the mess they'd made of Tetsu's kotatsu—the empty takeout cartons and the beer cans and the napkins and the spilled sauce from when Tetsu had made a truly filthy joke about Midorima and his buddy from Shuutoku and Daiki had laughed so hard that he'd knocked over the carton of lo mein. He needed it, too, because when Tetsu came back from his bath, wrapped up in a casual yukata and his hair still damp, Daiki's first impulse was to reach for him and lick the bead of water from his throat.

They weren't like that, he reminded himself. They never had been. Maybe they could have been, once, but they'd missed that chance, and then, well. A lot of things had happened since then.

"Thanks," he said when Tetsu gave him a stack of fresh towels and a pair of sweatpants that probably would get the job done, and was glad to flee into the bathroom, away from the thoughtful weight of Tetsu's gaze.

Daiki spent probably too much time in the bathroom, because the apartment was dark when he emerged again—dark except from the light from the bedroom. Daiki veered by the door to tell Tetsu goodnight and stopped short on the threshold. 

Tetsu was already in bed, no surprises there, but he had the blankets thrown back and his back propped against the pillows and his hand around his cock, stroking it slowly. He must have been watching the door, waiting for Daiki, because he looked Daiki straight in the eye as he moved his hand, up and down and up again to slide his fingers over the head, and his lips parted as he sighed. Daiki stared at him, rooted to the floor and helpless to even look away, and finally Tetsu said, "Are you going to join me or not?"

Daiki had to wet his lips before he could say anything. "Tetsu... what...?"

Tetsu's expression softened a little then. "I got tired of waiting, I suppose." He lifted his hand and stretched it out to Daiki, beckoning him closer. "Come here already."

Daiki found himself taking a step forward, and another, and one more to bring him within reach of Tetsu, who promptly seized his hand and pulled him down. "Tetsu, I—" He stopped when he realized he didn't know what to say.

"I wonder if you were ever going to say anything," Tetsu said after a moment, even as he pressed Daiki against the pillows and leaned over him. He looked down at Daiki, studying him as though Daiki were a book to be read and understood, and then he shook his head. "You wouldn't have, would you?"

Daiki looked up at him and finally shook his head, _no_. What could he have possibly said?

Tetsu's expression went even softer. "You idiot," he said, which Daiki could not dispute, and leaned down to kiss him. That was a relief, perfectly unambiguous, and so was the way Tetsu hummed against his mouth when Daiki reached up to flatten his hands against Tetsu's back. Tetsu's skin was cool beneath his palms, smooth when Daiki stroked him, and soft over the curve of his ass and the blades of his hips. Tetsu hummed again as Daiki hesitated there, murmured, "Go ahead," and groaned into his mouth when Daiki reached between them to fold his fingers around Tetsu's cock. This Daiki knew how to do, even if the angle was different and a little awkward, and he fisted Tetsu slowly, working his hand up and down the length of Tetsu's cock and figuring out what Tetsu liked best. Tetsu made husky sounds against his mouth and kneaded his hands against Daiki's shoulders until he jerked against Daiki's palms, gasping and arching as his cock throbbed and pulsed over Daiki's fingers, and then he let Daiki catch him and ease him down and hold him while his breathing stilled.

Daiki looked down at him, not entirely convinced that he wasn't dreaming, until Tetsu stirred again and lifted his head. He was smiling, small and satisfied, and leaned up to kiss Daiki again. "I've been waiting a long time for that," he said as he smoothed his hands over Daiki's ribs and shifted. Then he paused, a strange expression crossing his face, and shifted against Daiki again. He blinked and said, "Why are you not hard?"

Maybe it would be best if this were a dream. Daiki cleared his throat. "I... might have jerked off. Before my bath. And, um. After." Please, he thought, please, let this be a dream and not real...

Tetsu stared at him for a moment longer and then buried his face against Daiki's shoulder as he began laughing. "Only you," he gasped, after he had been laughing so long that he'd begun wheezing instead. "Only you, Aomine-kun."

Probably not a dream, then, Daiki concluded. Damn. "A guy has got needs, Tetsu, geez."

Tetsu lifted his face; he was flushed red and suspiciously bright-eyed. "Does he?" he asked. "It's a good thing that this storm is going to last until tomorrow afternoon, then, isn't it?"

All things considered, Daiki supposed that it probably was, at that.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owl kigurumi

**#global-wolf**   
**#Aomine/Kuroko, Kuroko buys an owl kigurumi**   
**#a kigurumi is one of those fleecy animal costumes-cum-pyjamas things**

"What," Daiki said, staring at Tetsu, wholly at a loss. "What the fuck."

Tetsu looked back, absolutely serene beneath the fleecy, goggle-eyed hood. "Could you be more specific, Aomine-kun?"

Daiki opened his mouth and found that no, in fact, he could not be more specific. "The fuck," he repeated, gesturing feebly at the blue and white fleece that currently shrouded Tetsu from head to toe. 

Tetsu tipped his head to the side and rubbed his chin, demonstrating the sweep of his—wingspan, Daiki's brain supplied, feebly—demonstrating the full sweep of the sleeves. "That really isn't very helpful." 

Tetsu could chide him all he liked; it really didn't penetrate just then. How could it? Tetsu was dressed in a motherfucking _fleece owl costume_. Daiki waved his hands around some more in the vague hope that this would convey the surrealism of the whole thing, and Tetsu continued to stare at him, patient and imperturbable. Finally Daiki shook his head, trying to clear it, and said, helpless, "What the fuck are you even wearing?"

Tetsu glanced down at himself and spread his—arms. They were arms, damn it. "Do you like it? It's very warm."

Daiki opened his mouth and quailed before the earnestness of Tetsu's gaze. "I—it's—um—very—" he floundered. Then he gave up. "What the fuck, Tetsu, you're wearing an owl costume."

"Your grasp of the obvious is keen," Tetsu said, solemn. "Well done." Despite how very sober he sounded, there was a glimmer of laughter beginning to lurk in his eyes. Daiki was very relieved to see it.

"What the fuck, Tetsu, seriously?" he demanded, waving at the costume. "Please tell me that that's for work." Surely it had to be something to entertain the rugrats.

"For work?" Tetsu blinked at him, not quite innocently. "No, I thought it might be nice for wearing around the house when the weather is cold." When Daiki shuddered, he frowned. "Don't you think I should?"

"Not if you ever expect to get laid again," Daiki told him.

Tetsu pursed his lips and glanced down at the costume. "Ah. Well. I suppose I should lay in a supply of tissues and hand lotion." 

Daiki opened his mouth to suggest something more reasonable—a sweater perhaps—before he caught the glint of steel in Tetsu's eyes. "Fine," he said, resigned. "I'll stop turning the heat down." It wouldn't kill him to go around in nothing but his shorts, if it came to it.

"Or we could do that," Tetsu said. He waved a fleece-covered hand, regal and gracious in his victory. "Whenever you like is fine by me."

Daiki shook his head and went to crank the thermostat up. "You play dirty, Tetsu, I hope you know that."

Tetsu just smiled. "No," he said. "I just play to win."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Library | Pool | Career-ending injury | Martial arts AU | Solo | Married with children

**#andreaphobia**  
 **#Aomine and Kuroko, library**  
 **#I am not making any of this up**

In principle, Tetsuya approved wholeheartedly of his university's dedication to academics and its insistence that even the athletes its sports programs had recruited purely on physical merit would graduate with meaningful degrees. That was what academic integrity was all about, and he applauded the school's dedication to its intellectual standards.

In practice, Tetsuya fulfilled his twenty hours a week of work-study in the library's writing lab and tended to look forward to the portion of his hours that was reserved specifically for the student athletes with mingled dread and resignation. It wasn't that his student athlete peers were stupid, precisely—he was acquainted with a few members of the tennis team who were actually brilliant, a guy on the baseball team who was just less interested in academics than he was baseball, at least one member of the football team who was terrifyingly intelligent (emphasis on the _terrifying_ ), and a couple of guys on the basketball team who were deeply impatient with the requirement that they attend five hours of peer tutoring a week, with good reason.

It was just—well, he would have defied any of his fellow writing tutors not to look forward to the Aomine Sessions without feeling a certain amount of trepidation.

"So," Tetsuya said after Aomine had come slouching down to his cubicle and settled in for their latest session. "What can I help you with this week?"

It wasn't that Aomine was a bad guy. Far from it. He was friendly enough, even kind of charming in his own way, and not at all hard on the eyes.

He was also absolutely impossible. 

"So I guess I have to write _another_ paper," he announced, as if having to write several papers for a writing class was an incredible burden. Tetsuya waited for him to dig around in his backpack; the assignment sheet he produced was wrinkled and stained with something unknowable. "Maybe you can help me with it?"

Tetsuya took the paper from him gingerly, holding it by the corners; the first thing he saw, right at the top of the page, was the due date. "This is due tomorrow." 

Aomine rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah?"

That didn't mean anything—perhaps Aomine had taken his lecture about time management to heart and had already begun working on the paper. (Perhaps pigs would someday fly.) Surely anything was possible. Tetsuya took a deep breath anyway, told himself not to be pessimistic, and smiled at Aomine. "So," he said. "How far along are you?"

Aomine scratched his chin. "Well, I dunno. I guess it's supposed to be an argument? I was thinking I could write about energy drinks."

"Energy drinks," Tetsuya repeated cautiously, because he had not yet forgotten the causes paper and Aomine's initial decision to write about why catsup was delicious. _That_ particular tutoring session was going to live forever in infamy.

But perhaps the leopard _could_ change his spots: Aomine brightened up some. "Yeah, energy drinks. I was thinking about talking about how they're really not all that effective or something."

Tetsuya blinked and consulted the assignment sheet. That actually seemed consonant with the assignment as written, which was a promising start. "Okay," he said, feeling the first flush of optimism. "So tell me what you're thinking."

Aomine stared at him. "That's about as far as I've gotten."

Optimism died a tragically early death. "Right," Tetsuya sighed. "Have you done any of the research you'll need yet?"

"Research?"

"You're going to need to cite some sources in this one," Tetsuya told him and at least had the satisfaction of seeing the first dawning light of panic cross Aomine's face. He sighed again and nudged his mouse to wake his computer up. "Let's start there."

"You're the best, Tetsu," Aomine told him, pretty much beaming at him.

"I try," Tetsuya said, dry, and hoped privately that Aomine was a better basketball player than he was a scholar.

* * *

**#itsthechangingoftheseasons**  
 **#AoKuro, pool**  
 **#Kuroko has never pretended not to be evil**

Daiki has seen fish bellies that have more color to them than Tetsu does, which is at once hysterically funny and simultaneously really kinda sad. Like, seriously, Tetsu is pretty damn pale—one time he took his shirt off at practice and Kise made a big production about falling over and clutching his eyes and claiming that he'd been struck blind, at least until Akashi told him to stop being ridiculous and to go run some more laps if he had that much energy—and no matter how much time he spends in the sun, he never tans.

Instead, he burns.

Daiki has lost count of the number of times he's seen Tetsu with his nose and cheeks burned red thanks to a practice running late—not that he keeps track of things like that, not really, except insofar as he keeps track of most things having to do with Tetsu. During the summer, Tetsu walks around smelling of sweat and zinc oxide and aloe vera gel when he inevitably forgets to reapply his SPF 9000 in a timely manner. Those scents are so much a part of Daiki's conception of Tetsu that once, during that bad period between the end of things at Teikou and the start of things in high school, Daiki caught himself missing Tetsu so badly it made his stomach hurt a little. Turned out it was because the girl he was sitting next to on the train smelled like the same brand of sunscreen Tetsu used. Not that it made Daiki feel any better, once he figured out that was what was getting to him.

Fortunately that period's over and done with and they're never going back there, so help him, so he doesn't have to worry about getting blindsided by sudden bouts of visceral sense-memories anymore. Well. Not exactly.

Tetsu draws his knees up and leans his cheek against them. "No hurry," he says when Daiki fails to move right away. "Whenever you're ready, of course." 

It's Tetsu, of course, so the dry civility of it does more to spur Daiki into acting than any amount of yelling might. It's just—

Tetsu's spine makes a single smooth curve from his nape down to the waistband of his swim trunks. They're a little loose and sit low on Tetsu's hips, which means that Daiki can see just the faintest shadow of the pit end of his spine, a bare suggestion of what the trunks cover up. Tetsu's skin is sleek and pale over the definition of his muscles, and the problem Daiki has right now is that he's pretty damn sure that it is _not fair_ for Tetsu to hand him a bottle of sunscreen and give him permission to run his hands all over that skin and then force him to _stop_ , because this is after all a _public_ swimming pool.

Man. It's like Tetsu expects him to have self-control or something. Surely he ought to know better than that by now.

Then again, there are an awful lot of little kids around. Now might be a really good time to develop some self-control.

Daiki takes a deep breath and fills his palm with sunscreen; it's thick and goopy and white and smells exactly like Tetsu to him. It goes on smoothly enough, sinking into Tetsu's skin as he sweeps his palms across Tetsu's shoulders and up his nape, down the line of his back to where his waist tapers in at his hips. Tetsu hums as Daiki massages the sunscreen into his skin. There's too much shrieking and laughter from the kids splashing and playing in the pool for Daiki to hear it, but he _feels_ it, a subtle vibration beneath his palms and the way Tetsu softens and relaxes, going pliant.

He works his hands up and down Tetsu's back just for that, even after he's pretty sure he's gotten sunscreen everywhere it's supposed to go. And then some, maybe, because Tetsu's trunks are a little loose. Daiki strokes his fingers beneath the waistband, running them along the curve of his ass and fingering the cleft of it, at least until Tetsu clears his throat. "That seems like enough."

"Are you sure?" Daiki dips his fingers a little lower—what, it's not like any of the kids or their mamas can see what he's up to.

"Quite enough," Tetsu says firmly.

He withdraws his fingers and brushes the tips of them up Tetsu's spine. "If you say so," he says as he caps the bottle again.

"I really do." Tetsu's face is pink, but Daiki would bet anything that it's not because of the sun. Well, that's only fair, considering, he thinks, at least until Tetsu adds, perfectly casual, "Of course, you're free to save that for later."

"You are a terrible person," Daiki says, because his brain is already flashing forward to the things that they might get up to later, in the privacy of their hotel room, and yep, it's definitely going to be a couple of minutes before he's going to be able to get up and get in the water.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Tetsu smiles at him, perfectly composed, and leaves him to hit the water.

Daiki ruefully adds the scent of sunscreen to his mental list of inappropriate aphrodisiacs and does his best to think unsexy thoughts in the meantime.

* * *

**#skyfireflies**  
 **#AoKuro, career-ending injury**  
 **#Aomine has his doubts about this one**

Daiki stared at the bandages on his knee, brooding over them in grim silence. Tetsuya sat nearby, keeping one eye on his book and the other on Daiki, and held his peace. Daiki wasn't the type to keep things bottled up for very long; all one really needed to was have a bit of patience. Eventually it would all come boiling out.

Indeed, it took about one and a half chapters to get there, but eventually Daiki cleared his throat. "Tetsu," he said, hoarse, with the raw edge of his fear lurking beneath the surface of that, vast as the submerged volume of an iceberg. "Tetsu, what if I never play again?"

Tetsuya tucked his thumb between the pages of his book to mark his place and looked at Daiki. "You're going to play again." He drew on all the skills he'd learned as a kindergarten teacher and projected every last iota of calm he possessed in the hope that Daiki would listen to him and be soothed. 

Unfortunately, it was easier to pacify the average five-year-old than it was to deal with Daiki when he'd worked himself up. He clutched his blanket, fists gone white-knuckled, and turned a thousand-yard stare on Tetsuya. "But what if I _can't_?"

Perhaps it was time to be a bit more direct. Tetsuya lifted his eyebrows just a bit. "Don't you think you're being a little melodramatic?"

It was a manifestly ridiculous question; obviously Daiki didn't feel that he was being melodramatic in the slightest. His expression was tragic, dark-eyed and clearly miserable. Tetsuya supposed that he could understand the root of Daiki's fear—a career-ending injury was every professional athlete's nightmare, of course, and basketball always had been at the center of Daiki's world.

Nevertheless.

"Daiki," Tetsuya said, very clearly and precisely. "You tripped on a sidewalk and cut your knee. You had to get a couple of stitches, and that was only because you raised a big fuss over the bandaids not being sufficient treatment. You probably won't even have a scar. You are going to be just _fine_."

For a moment—a single, blissful moment—Tetsuya dared to hope that Daiki was ready to actually listen to the voice of common sense.

Then Daiki heaved a sigh, one that probably came up all the way from his toes, and said, mournful, "But what if I'm _not_?"

Tetsuya sighed, too.

It was going to be a very _long_ week until the stitches came out.

   
 

[Now with bonus [adorable comic version](http://jen-suis.tumblr.com/post/79260983135/was-reading-the-aokuro-drabbles-and-this)!]

* * *

**#gunmetal-blue**  
 **#AoKuro, martial arts AU**  
 **#making it up as I go along**

Tetsu's step was so soft that Daiki barely felt the trembling of the floorboards that heralded his approach. He stayed where he was, sprawled across the porch and enjoying the patch of sunshine that was turning the insides of his eyelids rosy. Tetsu's footsteps paused when Tetsu was still a little distance from him; he stood in silence for the space of several breaths before Daiki heard the exasperated huff of his breath. "I thought you were going to meditate."

Daiki cracked his eyes open just enough to make out the shape of Tetsu standing in the open door, arms folded across his chest. "Who says I'm not?"

"I should think I know the difference between meditating and laziness." Tetsu stepped out onto the porch, his feet silent against smooth-polished wood. His shadow fell across Daiki's face, blocking the sunshine. "Do they let you get away with this at Touou?"

Daiki opened his eyes the rest of the way and grinned up at him. "Do you think they have any choice?"

Tetsu didn't really smile at that; if anything, the corners of his mouth went tighter, though it was difficult to make out his features when he was backlit by the sun like that. "I thought you were here to train."

"Kagami went out," Daiki explained. "Said he had to run errands or something." Tetsu's proximity was suggestive. He reached out, meaning to grab Tetsu's ankle.

Tetsu stepped aside, evading his hand. "There are other people training here besides Kagami-kun." 

Daiki grimaced when the sunlight fell across his face, right into his eyes, and shaded them again. "Yeah, but he's the interesting one." Tetsu probably thought he was out of arm's reach; Daiki grinned at him and snapped his hand out, faster than even Tetsu could react, and wrapped his fingers around Tetsu's ankle. "Well, not the only interesting one."

"Aomine-kun, please let go." Tetsu's voice was perfectly even. 

Daiki grinned at him, stroking his fingers over the bare skin just above Tetsu's sock, tracing the tips of them over the bones of his ankle and sliding them up under the fall of Tetsu's hakama to tease against his calf. "Are you going to make me?"

Tetsu lifted his eyebrows just a bit. "I suppose I should be flattered that you think I could."

Daiki gave that due consideration. "Nooo," he said after a moment, following the curve of Tetsu's calf up and finding the soft skin behind his knee; Tetsu's mouth twitched just a bit. Yeah, he'd thought Tetsu might still be ticklish there. "I don't really think you could, but I know you'd try anyway." He traced his fingers against the skin behind Tetsu's knee, watching Tetsu doing his best not to laugh, and grinned again. "You don't know how to give up."

"That's true enough," Tetsu conceded. It sounded a bit strained. "Are you going to come train or not?"

"I think I'd rather stay here." It was quiet and secluded; no one but Tetsu had been by in all the hours he'd been drowsing on this porch. Daiki rubbed a circle against the inside of Tetsu's knee, slow and inviting. "Why don't you stick around and keep me company?"

Tetsu's voice had dropped; it went husky when Daiki stroked his hand higher. "Aomine-kun..."

Daiki grinned when Tetsu took a step back, pulling away, and let his fingers slide back down Tetsu's leg. He stretched out his hand to Tetsu. "Why don't you come on down here and join me, huh?"

Tetsu gave him a long look. "I see that you're giving me no choice." 

"That was kind of the idea." Daiki smiled when Tetsu shook his head and leaned down to take his hand.

The next few seconds went by very quickly: Tetsu wrapped his fingers around Daiki's, sliding them into place and _twisting_ just so, until the torque of his wrist sent a bolt of pain up Daiki's arm and he had to move to relieve the stress on his muscles. Daiki yelped, even as Tetsu pressed his advantage and twisted Daiki's arm behind him, fuck fuck _fuck_ , why had he forgotten that Tetsu was most dangerous when his hands were completely empty? "Tetsu!" 

Tetsu did not let up his pressure on Daiki's arm and even went so far as to press his knee against the small of Daiki's back. "I think you should know that Aida-san sent me to find you," he announced while Daiki whined at the pressure. "She sounded like she had some things she wanted to work on. Now, are you coming or am I going to have to drag you?"

Daiki, his cheek pressed against satin-smooth boards and his arm creaking in its socket, considered his options and found that none of them were particularly good. But he didn't really want to deal with an injury and hurting Tetsu to get free was out of the question, so that left him one choice. "All right, fine, geez, let go already, I'll come train."

"I thought you might see it that way." Tetsu released his arm and stood; by the time Daiki had shaken his arm out and clambered to his feet, he was smooth and unrumpled as ever. "I do think we should hurry. She doesn't like to be kept waiting."

Daiki settled his gi more or less into place and made a face at Tetsu. "All right, fine, since you insist. Wouldn't wanna make Aida-san unhappy."

"It's generally not a good idea," Tetsu agreed, tranquilly enough. "Shall we go?"

Daiki laughed in spite of himself and fell into step with Tetsu. "You never do give up until you get your way, do you?"

"Of course not." Tetsu looked at him, wearing the tiniest of smiles. "I learned that from you, didn't I?" He smiled a bit more widely as Daiki blinked at him, caught off guard by that. "Come on, Aomine-kun. Aida-san is waiting." And if he said nothing more about it, well, what more was there to say?

* * *

**#Aomine, solo**  
 **#the only one who can make Aomine come is Aomine himself**

Tetsuya permitted himself a moment to absorb the details of the scene before him—the pillow beneath Daiki's hips and the supple curve of Daiki's body, the wide splay of Daiki's legs and the slow steady flex of his wrist, the soft wet sounds the dildo made as Daiki played it in and out of his ass and the eyes-closed look of utter concentration on Daiki's face as he fucked himself—and committed them to memory for later consideration before he finally cleared his throat. "So is this something you do every time I go out of town for business, or is this a special occasion?"

Daiki, who never had grasped the meaning of the word shame, just cracked his eyes open and grinned, lazy, without missing a beat. "Well, you know how lonely I get." He pressed the dildo deep and shuddered, slow and sensuous. "Feel free to pitch in, if you wanna."

Tetsuya leaned against the doorframe. "No, thank you," he said. "You seem to have things well in hand."

Daiki was still laughing when he finally adjusted the angle of his stroke and came, arching taut and shuddering through his pleasure.

Eventually he relaxed again, breathing deeply as he sprawled against their bed, spent. "Fuck," he said, and it wasn't entirely clear to Tetsuya whether that was meant to be an observation or an invitation. 

He chose to take it as the latter as he came away from the door, shedding an article of clothing with each step: jacket, tie, vest, shirt, slacks, underwear, socks. Daiki observed the progress of this with open interest, turning his head to watch and not making any move to do more than that, until Tetsuya slid a knee onto the bed. "I see you enjoyed the show."

"Yes," Tetsuya agreed, throwing a leg across Daiki's chest and kneeling over him. "You might say that." He reached down, curving his palm around the back of Daiki's head. "Why don't you do something about that?"

"Bossy, bossy," Daiki said, but he lifted his head anyway and opened his mouth for it when Tetsuya guided his cock against his lips. He took it easily, humming as Tetsuya rolled his hips forward in automatic response to the wet heat of his mouth, and his eyes crinkled up like he wanted to laugh when Tetsuya groaned. 

Tetsuya slid his thumb through Daiki's hair, damp with sweat, and braced his other hand against the headboard as he fucked Daiki's mouth. When he'd stepped away from the door, he'd had a vague intention of taking his time, but it had been a long week away from home and the pressure of Daiki's mouth wrapped insistent pleasure around every nerve that he had. It wasn't long before he was rocking his hips in short, urgent jerks, breathing hard as he trembled on the edge of coming entirely undone. Then Daiki hummed again, mouth and throat vibrating around him, and Tetsuya fell, groaning as pleasure burst through him and tightening his fingers in Daiki's hair.

He caught himself against the headboard when the heat finally released him, breathing hard and shuddering as Daiki let him slide out of his mouth with one last flick of his tongue against sensitive skin. Daiki grinned at him and slide his palms up Tetsuya's thighs, kneading the tension out of them as Tetsuya eased himself back. "So hey," he said, "welcome home."

Tetsuya laughed, helpless, and brushed his fingers against Daiki's cheek. "It's good to be back."

* * *

**#minatu**  
 **#Aomine/Fem!Kuroko, married with children**  
 **#fluffier like a down comforter wrapped around a piece of broken glass**

So the thing is, when it comes to the kids, Daiki is a hulking 192-centimeter _pushover_. When Tetsuna stops to consider this fact, she supposes that it doesn't really surprise her all that much. After all, as Satsuki-chan often points out, sometimes it's difficult to tell Daiki apart from the kids, and on certain fronts, it's clear that Daiki is never ever going to grow up. It's only natural that their kids pretty well have him wrapped around their fingers, because a lot of the time, the only way to tell him apart from them is by comparing their heights. 

Well. Perhaps that is an exaggeration. Besides, she's always had a soft spot for Daiki's transparent zest for life. It was one of the things that drew her to him in the first place and the thing she missed most when he lost his way there for a while, and it was the thing she was most grateful to recover when she helped guide Seirin and Kagami-kun through their matches against the various members of the Generation of Miracles. If having that back means occasionally having to deal with Daiki's excesses, well, Tetsuna made her peace with that long ago.

It's probably a good thing that she did, she thinks, because the kids can play Daiki like a violin. 

She's standing back, tucked in the doorway from the living room to the kitchen and unobserved by either Daiki or their youngest, when she has the latest opportunity to observe this in action. The kids have decided to take up their latest pet cause—hah, _pet cause_ , somewhere Izuki-senpai is snickering and he doesn't even know why—with Daiki.

Daiichi is their strategist; though he's the older one, he lets Sumire take the lead, which is a solid tactical move on his part. Sumire takes after Tetsuna—has her hair and her eyes and is particularly good at mimicking Tetsuna's most earnest expressions, or so Tetsuna is reliably informed—and the sad truth of the matter is that Daiki is pretty much defenseless against their daughter's wiles. She's launched this particular campaign by going to Daiki, who automatically picks her up and settles her in his lap when she holds her arms out to him. Once she's settled to her satisfaction, she looks up at him, eyes wide and solemn, and says, "Daddy, why don't we have a puppy?"

It's a good move; Tetsuna silently congratulates Daiichi for it, because it immediately puts Daiki on the defense. He flounders for a minute, clearly caught off his guard, and sputters. "Why do you ask?"

"Because." Sumire screws up her face and carefully begins counting things off on her fingers. "Mariko-chan has a puppy, and so does Yuusuke-kun, and Aiko-chan has a kitty. Natsumi-chan has both a puppy _and_ a kitty." She lays the last one down with the air of someone playing a trump card. She's named nearly the whole of her social circle, which Tetsuna suspects is at least part of the impetus behind Sumire's newfound desire for a puppy. One must keep up with one's peers, after all.

Daiki blinks a little at the careful recitation. "Well," he says, carefully, "that's very interesting, but I'm not entirely sure why that means _we_ should have a puppy."

Sumire gives him a wide-eyed look of such innocence that Tetsuna is honestly impressed. "Because," she says, "Uncle Kagami says that every kid should have a pet growing up, but I like puppies better than kitties."

It is a masterful stroke; if Tetsuna hadn't already heard Daiichi carefully coaching her on the point, she would have been tempted to applaud it. One of the things that Daiki has _not_ outgrown is his deep-seated rivalry with Kagami-kun, and the merest fact that Kagami-kun's daughter has a kitten is possibly the only reason Daiki needs to go out and find Sumire the puppy she so earnestly desires. Tetsuna sees it on his face and decides that this is the opportune moment to intervene.

She clears her throat gently, before Daiki can commit them to an irreversible course of action, and it's just in time, too. Daiki glances up and looks both guilty and relieved; Sumire merely frowns and looks thwarted. "Dinner is almost ready," Tetsuna tells them. "Sumire, go find your brother and wash your hands, okay?"

Sumire sighs and slides off Daiki's lap, suspending the campaign for the time being. Daiki picks himself up off the couch, looking rueful, and comes over to wrap his arms around her. "Saved in the nick of time," he says against her ear.

"I noticed that." Tetsuna tips her head to the side just a bit, smiling when his lips brush against her jaw. "May I suggest a script for the next time they bring this up? Try, 'Ask your mother. If she says yes, then sure, we can get a puppy.'"

Daiki pulls back a bit and looks at her, curious. "And when they finally get up the guts to do that, what are you going to say?"

"That I'll think about it." Tetsuna smiles just a bit. "This ought to be good for at least a few months of good behavior, don't you think?"

Daiki absorbs that and grins. "You're a terrible, evil woman, I hope you know that."

"Naturally," Tetsuna agrees, and lets him steal a kiss from her. "Isn't that why you love me?"

"One of the reasons, yeah." He steals another kiss, then yelps when she swats him. "Hey!"

"You're supposed to wash your hands, too," Tetsuna reminds him. "As a good example and role model for our children."

He rolls his eyes at her, but heads for the kitchen sink anyway. As he turns on the water and Tetsuna moves to transfer their meal to the table, he says, "You know you don't have to say yes, right? If you still miss him."

He's very studiously focusing on lathering up his hands, which is his way. He won't ever embarrass her by noticing something she'd rather not remark upon, like the way she sometimes gets misty-eyed over Nigou, the very best of dogs, even to this day.

"I know that," Tetsuna says, after a moment. "But Kagami-kun isn't wrong, you know. And I think it's just about time."

"Well, as long as you're sure," Daiki says, accepting her word for it as he rinses his hands and dries them off. 

"I'm sure," Tetsuna tells him, and steals a kiss of her own before the pounding of feet coming down the stairs alert them to the imminent arrival of their children.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **#Aomine as the cat from hell**   
> **#all cats are bastards**

Tetsuya remembers when Daiki was adorable. Sometimes he wonders what on earth happened.

Strictly speaking, he knows what happened: even the cutest of kittens, the ones that start out as tiny scraps of fluff, ninety-five percent fur and five percent giant eyes, cannot remain kittens forever. Kittens become cats, and therein lies the problem. The things that were adorable when Daiki was a little raggedy puff of black fur that fit in the palm of Tetsuya's hand are a _lot_ less cute now that Daiki is a seven-kilo monster of a cat, sleek and rangy and made of solid muscle, fangs, claws, and bad attitude.

"You were so _cute_ when I got you," Tetsuya muses. "How did you turn out like this?"

Daiki continues to roll around the pitiful remains of what had formerly been a rather handsome specimen of an areca. The pot lies in pieces and the soil is scattered in an arc with at least a meter radius; Tetsuya isn't sure, but he suspects that Daiki may have also made a deposit in the mess that is better-suited to the litterbox. The plant is a total loss. The leaves are scattered across the floor, and Daiki has been chewing on them in a desultory sort of fashion. 

Cat-like, he ignores Tetsuya's presence altogether. Really, Tetsuya doesn't know why he bothers—Daiki never listens.

Really, they should have gotten a puppy. Puppies can be trained, but Tetsuya is fairly certain that there's no training a cat unless the cat cares to indulge you. Daiki has made it painfully clear that he does not care to do any such thing.

Daiki sulks when Tetsuya lifts him bodily out of the mess and makes a couple of spirited attempts to roll around in the dirt some more, disembowel the broom, and pounce on the sad remains of the plant when Tetsuya begins picking them up. Tetsuya refuses to engage, and eventually Daiki takes up a station just outside the reach of the broom and watches him clean up the mess. Occasionally he licks his chops, grooming the green slime and leaf bits from his chin. Daiki is not a tidy eater.

"I hope you're pleased with yourself," Tetsuya tells him when he's dumped the last dustpan of soil into the garbage bags. "I _liked_ that plant."

Some cats have pleasant rumbling purrs, the kind that make a soothing background to one's reading, perhaps. Daiki's purr is as loud and growly as a truck engine with a failing muffler. He begins purring now and pads over to twine himself around Tetsuya's ankles, leaning against him so heavily that Tetsuya has to brace himself against his weight. He wreathes himself around Tetsuya's legs, slipping in and out of them and rubbing his head against Tetsuya's knees, purring with all his might. Tetsuya relents and stoops to rub his ears, because what else was there to do? Daiki's a cat, and that's all there is to it.

Daiki permits the caress for a moment, then eels away from Tetsuya's touch. At first Tetsuya thinks that this is because Daiki has had enough of being petted, but Daiki quickly corrects this assumption by assuming an all too-familiar position—hunched back, lowered head, gaping jaw—as the horrific _ack-gack-ackk-ackkk-ackkkk_ noises of incipient puking erupt from his throat. As Tetsuya watches, resigned, Daiki proceeds to barf up a pile of sodden green plant matter all over the freshly cleaned floor.

"You are _such_ a jerk," Tetsuya tells him, and goes to fetch the paper towels. The growling gargle of Daiki's purr follows him all the way to the kitchen.

He _definitely_ should have opted for the puppy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **#soundlessrawr**   
> **#AoKuro, music**   
> **#Kuroko has never claimed that he isn't evil**

When Tetsuya let himself in, he could hear Aomine's music almost clearly enough to distinguish the lyrics, which, given that Aomine was wearing headphones, was just a little terrifying. Tetsuya shook his head over this, wondering whether Aomine was deliberately courting hearing loss or simply didn't believe that such a thing could happen to him, and considered the line of Aomine's back as he stepped into his slippers and set his bag down. Aomine was slouched sideways in his chair, propped up on one elbow with his legs sprawled out, and he was drumming his pencil in time to the heavy thud of the bass beat. At first Tetsuya thought that he was absorbed in his studying. Then he crept closer and saw that while Aomine did have his biology textbook open, this was simply serving as a pedestal for the magazine lying atop it. He peeked over Aomine's shoulder to be sure, but he needn't have bothered: Aomine's devotion to Mai-san was as eternal and unalterable as the North Star.

One song ended and another began; Aomine tapped his pencil faster, matching the tempo of the new song, and carefully turned the page of his magazine. He clearly hadn't noticed that Tetsuya had gotten home or the fact that he was under observation, being far more interested in Mai-san's day at the beach. Tetsuya watched for a bit longer, sipping his shake thoughtfully, and then set the cup against the back of Aomine's neck.

At the first cold, wet touch, Aomine shrieked and jumped, flailing his arms. He overset his cup of coffee, spilling the dregs of it across the table, and immediately snatched his magazine out of harm's way. He left his biology notes and book to their doom, Tetsuya noticed as he took a prudent step back out of Aomine's reach. "I'm home," he announced as Aomine clawed the headphones out of his ears and tinny music blasted out of them.

He took another sip of his shake as Aomine slung himself around in the chair and glared. "What the hell, Tetsu, you know Mai-san is retired!" He cradled the magazine against his chest, stroking the cover possessively.

"I hadn't forgotten," Tetsuya murmured. "You mourned for a week and wore a black armband for months." It had been a touching, ludicrous spectacle, and really, that was Aomine all over. "Aren't you going to clean that up?"

Aomine made a face at him. "Should make you do it," he grumbled as he restored the magazine to Mai-san's shrine. "It's your fault, you know."

"I don't see how." Nevertheless he fetched a towel and began to mop up the mess. Fortunately the cup had only been about a quarter full, and honestly, a little cold coffee was the least of what he'd seen Aomine's notebooks and textbooks endure.

Aomine snorted, eloquent. "The hell you say." He switched the music off; the abrupt cessation of the blaring noise made the apartment seem loudly silent. He propped his hip on the table and squinted at the way Tetsuya was dabbing at his textbook. "I think it's too late, Tetsu. May as well pull the plug."

Tetsuya looked at the stained and damp pages, already crinkled from previous dousings. "Yes, but if we do that, how are you going to study?"

"Pfft, _study_." Aomine grinned at him. "You ought to know better'n that by now."

"I suppose I really should." Tetsuya set the book on end and fanned the pages out in hopes that they would dry faster. He started to head to the kitchen to rinse the towel and hang it up, but Aomine stretched out a long arm as he went past and reeled him in. Tetsuya raised his eyebrows at Aomine. "Was there something you wanted?"

Aomine twined his arms around Tetsuya, pulling him into the space between his knees, and bent down to kiss him. His mouth tasted like the coffee he'd been drinking, and he hummed when Tetsuya leaned into the kiss. "So hey," he said, leaning his forehead against Tetsuya's, staying close enough that Tetsuya could feel the movements of his lips shaping the words. "Welcome home."

Tetsuya smiled and dropped the towel so he could slide his arms around Aomine's waist. "Thanks," he said, and returned the kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **#harumelys**   
> **#AoKuro, hugging and sweet words**   
> **#so this one turned out like a punch right in the Feels**

As awkward as this was, Taiga had to admit that it was pretty damn satisfying to have a long-cherished suspicion confirmed at last: Aomine and Kuroko were _totally_ an item. "Just friends" his _ass_ —he'd had a lot of friends in his time, but he'd never felt the need to shove his tongue down any of their throats. Unless Kuroko's definition of what being friends involved was radically different than Taiga's, the way he had one hand wrapped around the back of Aomine's neck and the other cupping Aomine's jaw to hold him for the way he'd all but glued his mouth to Aomine's wasn't the least bit _friendly_ at all. For his part, Aomine had curled his fingers around Kuroko's arms, hanging on to him like a man going down for the third time who'd managed to catch hold of a life preserver at the very last second.

Clearly it had been a good call to duck out of the gym for a quick trip to the john while he was waiting for the two of them to show up for their game. Nevertheless, as satisfying as it was to have the were-they-or-weren't-they question settled, there were more important things to be doing, like playing basketball.

Taiga opened up his mouth to cough or clear his throat or something, whatever it was going to take to interrupt the festivities, but before he could make any noise, they separated of their own accord, and he stopped himself. Taiga had seen that expression on Aomine's face once before, right after Seirin had defeated Touou that first time. He looked just as stunned now, staring down at Kuroko as he settled back down on his heels. "Tetsu..."

He didn't let go of Kuroko, and Kuroko didn't turn loose of him, either. He just slid his hand around until it looked like he was holding Aomine's face between his palms. He had his game face on, gazing up at Aomine, and Taiga was suddenly sure that the two of them wouldn't have noticed a whole herd of tap-dancing elephants passing through, not when they were looking at each other like that.

Kuroko stroked a thumb against Aomine's cheek. "Stop holding on to what's past," he said. "It's over with. We can make something better now."

Taiga felt his eyebrows going up before he'd even had a chance to figure out what that meant—that kind of sounded like the two of them were—

It wasn't exactly a laugh, the sound Aomine made then. Laughter wasn't supposed to sound raw like that, or so full of broken edges. "How can you just say things like that, after—"

"Because it's true." Kuroko sounded sort of exasperated, which smart people would have taken as a warning sign. Of course, Kuroko was dealing with _Aomine_ , but even so, Taiga would have expected the guy to know better. Then Kuroko's expression softened, maybe because the look on Aomine's face _was_ pretty pitiful. He stroked his thumb back and forth along the line of Aomine's cheekbone, slow. "I forgave you a long time ago," he said. "Don't you think it's time you forgave yourself?"

"Tetsu..." Aomine didn't say anything but that; by the look of him, he didn't know what else he _could_ say. Taiga could sort of sympathize with that, having come up against Kuroko's immovable resolve a few times himself—though never quite like this, to be sure.

"It's time," Kuroko said, gently inflexible, and he caught Aomine when the guy made a choked sound and wrapped his arms around him. Aomine buried his face against Kuroko's shoulder and fisted his hands in his shirt, and Kuroko raised a hand to stroke his hair. He was smiling.

Taiga backed away, lifting his feet and setting them down again with as much care as he could manage. God knew he didn't want to make any noise. People shouldn't ought to choose gyms where just anyone could wander through to have their big dramatic emotional breakthroughs, yeah, but even so, he was pretty damn sure that neither Kuroko nor Aomine would have cared to know they'd had a witness to their rapprochement. He managed to sneak out without disturbing either of them and made good on his escape while he could. He gave them a few minutes before texting Kuroko an apology and a claim that something important had come up to keep him from making the game after all. If his eyes were a little misty while he did it, well, fuck. His allergies were giving him hell this spring, and that was all there was to it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **#itsthechangingoftheseasons**   
> **#AoKuro, dealing with children**   
> **#BEWARE OF FEELS**

There were benefits to having learned to minimize his presence to the point of practical invisibility, and one of them was the fact that sometimes he was able to stand witness to things that would have otherwise been private. (This was, at the same time, one of the drawbacks of his lack of presence; there was nothing in life that did not have its counterpart.)

This time Tetsuya was watching a pick-up basketball game in a park, which was nothing that would have been worth remarking if he hadn't known one of the players. Aomine was at the heart of the game, undoubtedly the most natural place for him to be, and he was surrounded by opponents whose heads barely reached the middle of his chest. Most of them were barely even that tall; Tetsuya thought that they might have been ten or eleven years old. 

Everyone was laughing, even Aomine, and it was for that reason that Tetsuya was lingering on the other side of the chain-link fence that surrounded the court, watching instead of joining in. It was obvious that they were playing six or seven against one—there were enough kids on the court in constant motion that Tetsuya couldn't get an accurate count of them—and it was just as obvious that Aomine could have won the game any time he chose, despite the number of his opponents. 

He was not choosing to do so. 

As Tetsuya watched, one of the kids stole the ball from Aomine and danced back a few steps to shoot at the net. The ball wobbled through the air and rebounded off the backboard; as his opponent scowled, Aomine stretched an arm out to catch the ball without even looking. His voice carried across the court clearly enough. "Here," he said, tossing the ball to her. "Try it again—no, wait." As she raised the ball, Aomine joined her and adjusted her form, nudging at her elbows and shoulders. "There, try it like that."

She screwed up her face, clearly doubtful, and made the shot. The ball described a much smoother arc through the air this time, hit the rim of the hoop, and rattled through the net. The girl whooped and Aomine grinned, ruffling her hair as one of the other kids pounced on the ball and the game resumed. 

Without really thinking about it, Tetsuya set his shopping bags down and hooked his fingers in the fence. He was in no particular hurry to get home, and this was something worth seeing.

It was a while before anyone noticed him, and he saw Aomine stop the play several more times to show the kids a better way to shoot or to evade an opponent before they did. It gave Tetsuya an odd feeling to see Aomine like this, grinning as broadly as any of his opponents and enjoying the game with the kind of transparent joy that he'd thought was long since lost. It was rather like looking through a window and seeing the past come back to life. Even though it was good to see, it ached like a long-healed injury did when the weather changed.

Eventually the ball escaped one of the player's hands and bounced over to the fence, and that was when Aomine turned and caught sight of him. He never had been all that great at concealing his reactions: first his eyes went wide with surprise and a moment of something that looked like hesitation, then his grin (if possible) stretched even wider than it had been before. He raised a hand and waved. "Hey, Tetsu! Come and join us!"

Tetsuya wasn't dressed for basketball, hadn't even thought that a game of pick-up basketball was in the offing, but he picked up his bags and came around the court anyway. Aomine's opponents—part of Tetsuya wanted to call them his playmates—eyed him with curiosity, but they didn't seem to mind his joining the game all that much. One of them did cock his head as Tetsuya took his coat off and left it with his shopping. "You know this guy?"

"Do I know this guy, he asks me." Aomine dropped a hand on the kid's head and scruffled his hair. "Of course I know this guy. We used to play together on the same team."

It was amazing how easy it was to sum it up like that, though it hardly dealt with all the things that _meant_. Not that the kids seemed to care either way, because they accepted that without question. 

Aomine scooped the ball out of the hands of the girl who had retrieved it and set it to spinning on his finger as he cast a look Tetsuya's way, one part the arrogance that he'd learned to wear since Teikou and two parts teasing and maybe, at the back of all that, a part that was uncertain and hopeful. "Whaddya say, wanna be partners again?"

What it meant when Tetsuya looked at him and said, "Yes, I do," probably went right over the kids' heads, but that was okay. They were too young to know about that kind of thing anyway.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **#basketbizzle**   
> **#Yakuzaverse, AoKuro after getting tattooed**   
> **#so I kind of have thing for tattoos and this prompt hit me where I live**

They go together whenever they've scraped up the money and have the time for a session. It means a lot of time spent waiting and watching, because the man only has two hands and one apprentice. They have to take turns stripping off their shirts and submitting to the needle. It ought to be tedious, these sessions, which can stretch out to occupy a whole evening. They are often nearly silent but for the sounds of the needle as the artist etches his designs into their skin and fills them in with detail and color. Occasionally he murmurs instructions to his apprentice or whichever one of them is being worked on; sometimes one of them grunts when the needle bites deep. Tetsuya would not care for anyone else to overhear him in such circumstances, but Aomine is different. Aomine is and always has been his exception.

Tonight he sits out of the way, his shoulder throbbing where the artist has been adding fine detail to the sweep of a wing against the clouds. He watches as Aomine stares up at the ceiling and holds still while the man traces the first outlines of the scene that will sweep down from Aomine's shoulder and cross his pectoral muscles. He grunts occasionally, but no one pays any attention to that or the way his cock presses against the front of his slacks, straining against them and completely ruining the tailored line of them. These sessions take him like that, and so Tetsuya sits and smokes and watches until the artist finishes the last curving line that follows the sweep of Aomine's ribs. He sets his tools down and settles back with a sigh.

His apprentice immediately produces a cloth for him to wipe his hands on, and then the ointment to wipe over the lines he has engraved into Aomine's skin. After this has been done, the two of them nod to Tetsuya and slip out, closing the door after themselves.

There are certain benefits to the habits of routine and paying generously, Tetsuya reflects, rising and padding over to Aomine to look him over. His chest gleams in the light, slick with sweat and the shine of the ointment, and the lines of ink show up vividly against his skin. He grins at Tetsuya and stretches a hand up to him. "Gimme."

Tetsuya passes his cigarette down to Aomine, who promptly takes a long drag and groans with his satisfaction. "Fuck, that's good." He's a shameless sensualist, Aomine, but then, so is Tetsuya. He kneels between Aomine's legs when he draws his knees up to make room, and that is why the artist and his apprentice have left them this privacy.

He's been watching for long enough that he knows precisely what he wants, and so he unfastens Aomine's slacks without hesitation and draws Aomine's cock out. Aomine groans as Tetsuya handles him, leaning his head back against the tatami as Tetsuya runs his thumb up the underside of his head and through the smear of slick beading at the slit. He groans again when Tetsuya leans down and wraps his lips around him, sliding his tongue over the soft skin of him and sucking slow and hard before he runs his mouth down the length of Aomine's cock. It slides over his tongue, heavy and hot, and the scent of Aomine's skin and sweat fills his senses, wound through with the acrid edge of the cigarette smoke and the ink and the ointment shining on his skin. 

Tetsuya groans too, reaching for his own fly as Aomine lifts his hips and fucks into his mouth while he smokes the rest of Tetsuya's cigarette. Tetsuya moves with him, half drunk on the way Aomine looks when he's spread out like this, and the first outline of the ogre glares at the world from Aomine's chest. He closes his hand around his own cock, moving it in time with the way Aomine's cock slides over his tongue, filling Tetsuya's mouth with the slick, bitter taste of him.

It never takes long for them to bring each other off after a tattoo session. Aomine hasn't even stubbed the cigarette out before he tenses and groans, his hips jerking as his cock throbs between Tetsuya's lips, flooding his mouth. Tetsuya closes his eyes, swallowing and tightening his fingers on his cock as he moves his mouth over Aomine. He laps Aomine clean and suckles delicately at the head of him until Aomine groans again and pushes him away. Tetsuya pushes himself up then and moves his hand harder, faster, stroking himself off, and comes over his fist when Aomine props himself up on his elbows to watch.

Aomine grins, watching Tetsuya hunch over himself and gasp with the punch of sensation. "Fuck, that looks good on you." He finishes the cigarette and reaches a long arm over to stub it out in the tattoo artist's own ashtray, wincing a little as he flexes his new tattoo.

"I'm so glad you approve," Tetsuya tells him as he wipes his hands clean. He does up his slacks and pushes himself to his feet, and kicks Aomine's ankle lightly when he doesn't move to follow. "C'mon."

Aomine spends a few more moments watching him silently before he tucks himself away and stands. Tetsuya lights up another cigarette while he waits for Aomine to finish dressing himself, wondering a little about the look in Aomine's eyes, but he thinks no more of it when Aomine looks around, plucks the cigarette from his lips, and kisses him. "You hungry, Tetsu?"

"I've already eaten," Tetsuya says, bland, just for the way it makes Aomine crack up, and steals his cigarette back. "But I’m not full yet, I suppose."

"Then let's get the hell out of here," Aomine says, and they do.


End file.
